Finding Hermione
by Litfreak89
Summary: Hermione has always been told she needed to be different, better. Maybe she'll finally learn to love herself with the encouragement of a friend.


_AN: Written for Round 8 of the QLFC_

 _Team: Pride of Portree_

 _Position: Beater 2_

 _Beater 2's Prompt:_ K-pop Song - Palette by IU (feat. G-Dragon). Theme - coming into your own, i.e. a "coming of age" kinda story where your character is able to identify the uniqueness of their personality, their likes and dislikes, their opinions and beliefs, and is able to be comfortable in their own skin without succumbing to peer pressure while accepting that it's ok to be different.

 _Optional Prompts used:_

4\. (emotion) frustration

12\. (dialogue) "I believe you. But I believe everybody else too."

 _Word count (excluding AN): 1111_

* * *

" _Teacher's pet!"_

 _"Know-it-all!"_

" _Weirdo!" The little girl with bushy brown hair and teeth that stuck out a bit too far clasped her hands around her ears, desperate to stop the insults from ruining her day once again. She was desperate to fit in for just once in her life._

 _Her parents assured their daughter that one day her classmates would see just how lovely she truly was. They would see that her brilliance was an asset, not an embarrassment. But maybe she could just try to be a bit more friendly…?_

 _When she began Hogwarts, she thought that she had maybe found her niche, a place where she would be considered normal and accepted for herself. Nothing could be further from the truth. Sure, there were new faces, but there were the same old insults._

" _She's a nightmare, honestly." Well, maybe not all the same._

 _Yet_ this _insult was different. It led to making two best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, when they saved her life from a troll._

 _Of course, not everyone was as accepting…_

* * *

"Move, Mudblood!" Draco Malfoy pushed by Hermione on their way to Potions. "You know," Malfoy turned to look at her, "I don't even know why you're still here, Granger. You'll never get a respectable job when we leave Hogwarts. Maybe the headmaster will take pity on you and give you Filch's job when he's dead and gone." The blond git turned to leave with Crabbe and Goyle, leaving Hermione frustrated and wiping angry tears from her eyes. _Why did Malfoy's insults still get to her?_

"Potions, Hermione?" a dreamy voice behind the sixth-year startled her. Hermione turned to face Luna Lovegood, quick to smile and hide her tears.

"Hi, Luna. Yes, I'm headed to the dungeons." Thinking quickly, she questioned, "But where are you going? Don't you have Herbology now? The greenhouses are on the other side of the school!"

Luna smiled and ignored Hermione's question. "You seem sad, Hermione. Are the Nargles giving you trouble?"

Hermione rolled her eyes but shook her head. "Luna, my head is fine. I just let Malfoy get to me for a minute. Now," she continued, checking her watch, "I need to get to Potions, and you need to get to Herbology. Slughorn and Sprout dislike tardiness."

"And you dislike standing out from the crowd, Hermione. See you later." Luna turned and glided toward her next class. Hermione, knowing she was late, hurried down the corridor.

* * *

That night, Hermione pulled out a photo album while seated on the couch in the common room. Harry lowered himself to sit beside her and leaned his head back, exhausted from Quidditch practice. Ron waved at the two and made his way up to the dorm, ready for bed.

"Pictures, Hermione? Any in there of baby Hermione?" Harry joked.

Hermione scowled a bit. "Don't you have a shower to take, Potter?"

Harry grinned. "Not at the moment. It's probably full. Anyway, I'd rather look at your baby pictures." He laughed at her blush.

"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. My baby pictures, as well as any pictures taken since, are of a shapeless girl with a bushy mane of hair and big teeth."

"Maybe I like girls with a lot of hair." Harry stretched before turning to look more intently at the album. "Who's this?"

Hermione glanced down. "This is my grandmother, Jean. She's the reason for this bushy mess on my head."

"And this?"

Hermione smiled as she looked at the familiar photo. "My Papa Rhys. He used to comb my hair when I was little and sing to me. He passed when I was five." Tears filled her eyes for the second time that day. "He was my best friend."

Harry was startled by her sudden tears. "Hermione, look at me. Talk to me."

Hermione turned to look at Harry, who was looking at her as if she were the only person in the world. "What should I say, Harry? I should be happy; I have a chance to study with some of the brightest wizards alive today, and I'm crying because I didn't have a single friend from the time I was five until this red-headed git and his best friend saved me from a bloody troll during first year!"

Hermione turned away and crossed her arms, mentally-or maybe physically-sighing as she felt Harry's hand on her back, giving her a small bit of comfort.

"Six years, and I still hear the insults. I've tried for years to fix whatever was wrong with me, but the name-calling just gets more creative as the years pass. What is it about me, Harry? Why is it so easy for people to criticize and make jokes?"

"Because it is, Hermione." She turned to look at Harry again. "It's easier to make jokes that admit a Muggleborn witch is smarter than they are. Malfoy, a guy who was raised in this life and has never known anything else, struggles to keep up with you." Taking her hand, he squeezed it. "You learned of the magical world less than a year before traveling here and establishing yourself as the smartest witch of our generation. It's a bit intimidating — even if most will never admit to it."

"Not you, though, right?" Hermione smiled a bit.

Harry reached out and wiped away a stray tear. "Never me," he boasted. "Harry Potter is intimidated by no one!"

Hermione twisted a bit and looked into the fire. "I believe you. But I believe everybody else too. It gets old, Harry. I just want to be normal for once."

"Normal's boring, Hermione. Why not be someone who others strive to imitate?"

Hermione gaped at Harry, her eyes wide. Was this really Harry Potter, oblivious to a fault? "Harry?"

He smiled. "Be Hermione. Find what she likes, what she's passionate about. Then you won't care what everybody else says."

* * *

By the end of the term, many students had noted a change in Hermione Granger. A shoe-in for Head Girl, Miss Granger had reinstated S.P.E.W., recruited others of like minds (predominantly Muggleborns), and established a presence in the castle. Hermione had also convinced Dumbledore (before his passing) that the elves in the kitchen needed better compensation for their efforts at Hogwarts, an agreement that Deputy Headmistress McGonagall was honoring.

Harry sat back and watched Hermione blossom, afraid the coming year would undo every bit of progress she had made over the past year. She had so much going for her, such a bright future, but it all would be futile if Voldemort won. Hermione wouldn't even have a future if he failed. And to win, Harry needed Hermione.


End file.
